3 comments/ 5714 views/ 0 favorites Sleeping Bag By: blowhyoooge "Hi Mike, I was just around the corner so I—oh my God, what the fuck are you doing??" Michael jumped, or at least came as close to jumping as one can when one is lying in a sleeping bag inside of which one is blowing up a very big balloon. The nozzle pulled out of his mouth, and for a moment he was blinded by the stream of air blowing in his face. Mike thought of just going with complete honesty. Well, you see, baby, I'm blowing up a big balloon inside my sleeping bag, and in a few minutes I'll blast a big load of hot cum all over it. Yeah, right. Laura got jealous if he so much as glanced at another woman. Explaining to her that blowing up balloons and fucking them turned him on as much as sex with her would go over like... well, like a lead balloon. No matter, as Laura's grasp of the obvious immediately kicked in: "Were you blowing up a balloon inside a sleeping bag?" "Well, I, er..." Mike stammered. "You were! But why would you..." Her eyes slid down the sleeping bag, and then widened. Contrary to what most men think, having a big cock is not really advantageous, and Mike could think of at least twenty reasons why. Now he knew number twenty-one. With the balloon mostly deflated, there was no hiding the missile between his legs. "Are you-" She rushed over to the bed. Mike was helpless, his arms trapped inside the sleeping bag. She grabbed the middle of the sleeping bag, then lifted up the open end and looked inside. "Oh my God, you're naked and you're hard as a fucking rock!" she said. Mike had fantasized about her saying those exact words, but without the super-pissed-off tone now in her voice. "Are you masturbating? With a fucking balloon? What the fuck is going on here, Mike? "Well, um..." "Tell me, Mike, what the fuck?" "It's... um... it's like... well, it's like, um... it's... sort of... sort of a fetish." "What, sleeping bags and balloons?" "Well, more of the balloons, the sleeping bag is just sort of for..." But Laura's eyes were suddenly far away. "Wait a minute... a couple of months ago, at my mother's birthday party, when I caught you staring at my sister... I thought it was because she was wearing that low-cut dress, but you were you getting turned on watching her blow up all those balloons, weren't you?" "Er..." "And you kept saying I should help her blow them up, and I kept telling you I had to finish decorating the cake, and... oh, my God!" "Laura, honey..." "Don't fucking 'Laura Honey' me! This is fucking sick!" "Sick? Come on, it's harmless, like how you like me to bend you over and masturbate you with a great big..." "Don't you fucking bring that up, you sick fuck!" she yelled. "A balloon fetish, I've read about that, what is it because your mommy didn't breastfeed you? You didn't get enough of your mommy's giant fucking boobs, and mine aren't fucking big enough? Is that what the fuck this is about?" "No, sweetie, your tits are plenty big, it's just that-" "Shut the fuck up! Is that what you're thinking about when you're fucking me? My sister blowing up all those big fucking balloons? Is that what gets your dick hard? What about that time at the lake my cousin was blowing up that giant beachball, huh? Oh, I bet you fucking loved that, I bet you went home and stroked your cock and blew a big fucking load thinking about her, didn't you?" "Well, um..." "Oh my God, you did! Michael, this is so fucking weird, I don't know what to do." "Honey, look, I love you, baby, I..." "Just shut the fuck up! I should leave you alone with your big rubber girlfriend. My god, look at the size of that fucking balloon. I've never seen one that big! I bet you'd like to see my sister blow that one up nice and tight, wouldn't you?" Mike was silent. He actually had fantasized about just such a thing. In fact, just before Laura had walked in, he had been imagining it was her sister who was inflating the balloon. His cock, which had started to go soft in response to Laura's tirade, began to stiffen again. No, not now, he thought... not now... But Laura wasn't looking at the bulge in the middle of the sleeping bag. She was looking at the balloon. Laura spoke again. This time her voice was soft and sugary-sweet... and very, very dangerous. "Well, if you'd rather go to bed with your big fucking balloon," she said, "maybe that can be arranged." Laura climbed onto the bed and straddled Mike. She picked up the balloon and stuffed it into the open end of the sleeping bag. She gave Mike a sickly-sweet smile, then took a deep, deep breath, put the nozzle of the balloon to her mouth... and blew. Mike had fantasized about seeing Laura blow up a balloon since the day they had met. In his dreams, she had fulfilled his wildest fantasies, blowing everything from little Q260s to giant GL1200s. He imagined her as the sexiest balloon blower in the world, getting every little nuance right, the perfect turn-on for a looner. He had never told her about his fetish because he was sure the reality would never live up to his dreams. How wrong he was. Laura's first breath into the balloon was better than anything he had imagined. Her fist clenched the balloon's long neck. Her eyes drilled into his. Her cheeks puffed out to impossible dimensions. Her brows furrowed as she blew... and blew... and blew... one long blast of air that swelled the balloon bigger than he could manage in two, maybe three breaths. The balloon swelled against his chest inside the sleeping bag, as did his cock. Her cheeks relaxes, and she drew in another long breath. She seemed to inhale forever, her chest swelling, her beautiful breasts pressing against the straining fabric of her t-shirt, her nipples standing out as two hard dots. She seemed to be breathing all of the air in the room, and as he wondered if that were possible, and if he would suffocate if that happened, she blew again. She blew harder this time, her face reddening with the effort. The balloon, confined by the sleeping bag, grew rapidly down towards his cock, and before she had emptied her lungs, the two had met. My God, Mike thought, just how big were Laura's lungs? How could she have blown the balloon so big in just two breaths? Laura filled her lungs again, and when she could inhale no more, what she did was not so much blowing as it was blasting. He felt the rapidly expanding balloon rush down the full length of his cock. Her body lifted upwards as the balloon grew underneath her, but she never stopped blowing. The balloon squeaked uncomfortably, and he could see it starting to bulge at the top, nearest his face. He tried to pull the balloon downward, but she had blown it so big and so tight, it would hardly move. "Okay, baby, I get the point, and I think it's pretty full..." Laura's eyes stayed locked to his. And her lips stayed locked around the balloon. She took another deep breath, and while he didn't think it was possible for Laura to blow any harder, she did. The balloon squeaked and squealed in protest. "Honey, I don't think you can blow it much bigger with you sitting on it, otherwise it's going to pop, and you're going to fall, and..." He tried again to adjust the balloon, which she had blown so big that it reached down his thighs. It was getting difficult to breathe inside the balloon-filled sleeping bag. "Shut the fuck up, Mike," Laura said. "I have blown it big, haven't I? But you like your balloons blown up nice and big, don't you, Michael? Yes, I think you do. And I think I should blow this balloon even bigger." "Laura, wait-" But Laura didn't wait. She took another deep breath, and as her chest expanded, he could see her tits bulging out against her shirt like two balloons blown tight enough to burst. And then she began to blow, and her tits disappeared from his view as what had been a small part of the balloon just outside the sleeping bag began to grow very big... and very thin. He could feel the balloon with his hands. It was rock hard and he was afraid to move for fear of popping it. He had blown this balloon big enough to touch his cock, sure- but he had never blown it anywhere near this big. The balloon always got hard to blow when it filled the sleeping bag, and he was afraid of popping it. But clearly his lungpower was no match for his girlfriend's... and clearly the idea of blowing it until it burst didn't bother her one bit. He was positive that this was going to be this balloon's last inflation. He wanted to tell her to stop, but he couldn't, because she had blown the balloon tight against his face. He could see her breasts pressed against the balloon, her nipples dimpling the latex through her shirt. He had to turn his head to the side so he could breathe. He had never been so scared by the prospect of a balloon popping, but it was clear that when this one went - and he had no doubt it was a matter of when, not if - it was going to pop right in his face. He was scared shitless... and turned on beyond belief. Hundreds of hours of watching balloon porn, and here he'd been fucking the world's hottest balloon blower for years! He felt his cock trembling on the verge of orgasm. "Are you scared, Mike?" The balloon's skin rang with Laura's voice. "I can feel you shaking right through this balloon. Are you scared it's going to pop, Mike? Are you scared that I'm going to blow a big hard breath into this balloon and it's going to go BANG and burst right in your face? That's what you deserve, Mike, fucking this balloon instead of me. That's why I want to pop it, Mike. I don't like competition. But I'll stop if you tell me too... oh, wait, you can't tell me, Mike, because this balloon is in the way. Well, I guess I'll just go right on blowing it up!" He felt the balloon press into him as she filled her impossibly big lungs. He heard the latex squeal as she stretched the neck. He imagined the way she'd looked blowing that first breath. He thought of his girlfriend, the ultimate balloon-blowing babe. He heard the air start to rush into the balloon... KABAM!! The concussion shocked his body as she blew the balloon to oblivion. The latex stung his face, his chest, his legs and his cock as his girlfriend's lungpower shredded it into a thousand pieces. He felt a blast in his face as all the air Laura had forced into that balloon was suddenly set free. And the noise - oh, God, the noise! The bang was deafening, and for a few seconds he could hear nothing, just a loud ringing in his ears. Laura landed hard on his cock, which was as tight as that balloon had been just a second before and every bit as ready to explode. She didn't look scared; she looked triumphant. She brought her face down to his, and he could feel her tits against his chest through the sleeping bag. She bent down to his ear and whispered. "I guess you won't be fucking that balloon again, will you, sweetie?" Mike's voice was hoarse. "Tell me what you did to it," he croaked. She looked him right in the eye. "I did just what you were doing," she said, grinding her crotch against his cock to emphasize her words. "I blew up that big balloon... I blew it bigger... (grind) and bigger...(grind) and bigger... (grind) and then I blew... it... to... bits." Mike couldn't take it any more. He felt a tremendous build up in his cock, bigger than he had ever felt before. And then his cock seemed to explode with all the force of the balloon Laura had just blown to bits. He blasted the biggest load of cum he'd ever felt. It shot up to his chest, and one drop made it clear up to his neck. Laura licked it off. "Now, are there any more of these big balloons I need to know about, you fucking perv?" Laura asked. "There are more in my night table," Mike stammered. "Well so there are," Laura said, opening the drawer. She took one out. She lifted the top of the sleeping bag and gently draped the balloon down on his cum-soaked chest. "I guess we're going to be here a while," she said, and as she began to inhale, slowly and deeply, Mike felt his cocks stiffen again. Sleeping Bags Karen stared at the ceiling of the tent and listened to the pounding rain. She cowered inside her sleeping bag when a flash of lightning lit up her little world. How long would the storm last, she asked herself. Why didn’t it go away and let her sleep? The sleeping bag was pulled up to her chin. Karen wasn’t cold, just scared. She’d always been scared of thunder and lightning. Now she was outside in a tent, her father Richard apparently sleeping soundly a couple feet beside her in his own sleeping bag. Karen knew this was no way for a nineteen year old to be acting. Her father invited her along on the weeklong bike tour of central Ohio and Karen was happy that he asked. She also felt obligated to go, to make Dad happy. But on this second night into the tour she’d give anything to be in her bed back home. Another flash was followed almost immediately by a clap of thunder. It made her shiver. Each one was closer, and brighter, and louder. She inched closer to her father. Karen remembered when she was much younger and could crawl into her parents’ bed for safety. They would hug her and bury her under the covers. She wanted that now. The day had been very hot and it wasn’t until the sun went down that the tent was bearable even just to sit in. Now with the humidity of the storm, both occupants of the tent had their sleeping bags unzipped. Karen looked over at the dark outline of her father’s body. She pulled her sleeping bag with her as she rolled closer to him. Karen wanted his arms around her like before, but knew it couldn’t be. She felt like she was living in a time warp somewhere between childhood and adulthood. The uncertainty of what to do almost overweighed her fear of the storm. The next bolt of lightning decided the issue. Karen scooted until the front of her body touched her father’s back. She put her left arm around his waist. Karen wore a t-shirt and panties, her father a pair of boxers. But that was of little concern to her at the moment. The feel of his skin on her arm already began to soothe her. She moved so that their bodies followed the same curve and she hugged tighter. That’s when she felt him move for the first time. Karen lifted her arm a little; ready to pull away from her father if she had to. Instead, he raised his head for an instant and then put his hand on Karen’s arm. She watched him put his head back down before moving closer to him again. They stayed this way until the storm eventually blew over. With the thunder a distant disturbance, Karen concentrated on the sound of the rain again as it hit the roof of the tent. Her face was nearly touching her father’s back and she could smell his skin. Lightly, she allowed her cheek to touch him. A few moments later she was asleep. When Karen awoke her head was on her father’s shoulder and he was lying on his back. Her arm was still outstretched across his stomach. One of her legs lay gently on top of one of his. The silence outside the tent was outdone only by the darkness inside it. The calmness of it all was like a prayer answered. Karen moved her arm to pull her sleeping bag up over her body when she accidentally brushed against her father’s boxers. The suddenness of it made her flinch, but something else made her want to do it again. She was certain her hand grazed over a very long and hard cock. Light snoring by her father persuaded Karen he must still be asleep. Could she risk touching there again and not wake him up? She couldn’t resist. Her left hand moved silently above her father’s boxers and came to rest on top of the material. Yes. This time she was sure of what she felt. Karen let her hand remain on the hard shaft, pressing down just slightly. She could feel the warmth penetrating through his thin boxers. Then she moved her hand up until finding the tip of his cock. He was big, she thought. Or at least long. Her curiosity forced her to softly move her hand down and her fingers to wrap around the cock. Her heart pumped wildly as she gripped it. A change in her father’s breathing caused her to let go of the cock and let her hand hover an inch above it. She held her own breath before relaxing again. Karen’s mind raced. She felt so close to her father—the way she did on those stormy nights long ago. Only now she also felt like a woman wanting to comfort him like he did her. Guilt crept into her thinking. Didn’t she owe him this? Wouldn’t it simply show how much she loved him? Her hand touched it again. This time the opening in his boxers allowed her palm to actually touch his skin. She nearly moaned out loud. It was wonderful and warm and hard. Karen maneuvered her hand inside the fly and let her fingers lay across his cock. She smiled when it twitched. Then she gripped it at the midpoint of the shaft. Richard opened his eyes. He could see the top of his daughter’s dark blonde hair on his shoulder. Otherwise, the darkness of the night made everything in the tent invisible. He didn’t need light to feel what was happening. His erection was in Karen’s small, warm hand and he didn’t want to move. Her fingers tightened their grip on his cock and Richard clamped his eyes shut. It felt so good despite being so wrong. He wanted to say something because it was very nice having her so close to him. But there was nothing he could think to say that would allow her to continue her exploration of his body in such an innocent way. They continued on in silence. Karen suspected now that her father was awake. The muscles in his body reacted to each movement of her hand, but she was afraid to look up at him. Her hand rose back out of her father’s boxers, with his cock in tow. She could barely make it out in the din of the tent. The swollen head loomed above her hand and she wished she could see it better. Karen let go of the cock and let it lay on top of his boxers. With slow motion precision she ran her fingers over the length of the cock’s underside. Her father sucked in a lungful of air and tried not to move. Both were now fully aware of the other. The young woman ran a finger up and down the shaft on the top and both sides. Then two fingers. This time she hovered over the tip and felt the hot, rough skin and the slit at the end. Each moment that she was allowed to touch him made her want him more. She could feel the sensitivity of her nipples growing along with the wetness between her legs. Karen was being drawn to her father’s cock by a power she couldn’t understand. She wanted it so she could make him happy the same way he had comforted her. And she wanted it because she needed it. Karen considered turning away from her father and pretending later it never happened. Instead, she found her head sliding down his chest and his cock looming larger before her. She held it once more in her hand, stroking it a couple times to feel the entire thing. This time Karen felt it throb and rise from his boxers in full erection. She was thrilled by this and dreaded the thought that at any moment he could stop her. Karen’s body slid lower. Now her head was on his stomach and she was within inches of the cock. A second later her head was next to it, close enough to touch it if she pulled it down to her lips. She did. Karen kissed the tip of her father’s cock. Then licked it once. It was magnificent. This wasn’t the lust she felt when she did this to the boys she knew. This was loving her father in the physical sense. The woman prayed he would let her continue. She licked all around the tip of his cock before sliding the head between her lips. It was at this point that she felt his hand on her head for the first time. He was lightly brushing her hair over her ears as she held his cock in her mouth. This only heightened her desire and she took more of the cock inside her mouth. Karen moaned with pleasure as she felt the thick shaft between her lips and on her tongue. She licked it feverishly and tasted the precum oozing from the tip. Now she used her hand on the base of her father’s cock and her mouth on the rest of it to begin pleasing him in earnest. Richard laid his arms by his side and let Karen have her way. Eventually his hand found her back and he followed the material of her t-shirt down to her waist. But he made no effort to touch anything else. His mind went blank when the urgency of his sexual desires overcame his guilt and shame. If he stopped Karen now it would only increase the embarrassment for both of them. And he didn’t want her to stop anyway. He heard Karen’s whimpering as she worked on his cock. They were sounds of pleasure…of satisfaction. Her lips wrapped tighter around her father’s cock when she felt his body respond. Richard’s hips rose and fell as he began to fuck Karen’s mouth. His hand came back to her head and she answered by taking him deeper. This time it was Richard that groaned. “Yeah, baby. That’s it,” he said to her. “Yes. Yes.” Karen pumped the base of his cock furiously when his body stiffened beneath her. He cried out once more before telling her he was ready to cum. The first spurt of cum hit the top of her mouth as both father and daughter let out lustful groans. Richard drove his cock up to Karen’s mouth as if he were thrusting inside a tight cunt. She took shot after shot of his cum until it spilled out onto her chin and back down to his cock. Half a dozen times he sprayed cum into her and she wanted more. Karen felt her pussy rub against his leg and knew that she, too, would cum if she kept it up. But she could wait. This was about making Dad happy and thanking him for being there. Soon he twitched with each lick of the cock’s tip, but could cum no more. He panted from the exertion and threw his arms back down to the floor. Karen let the limp cock slide back inside his boxers with one last kiss. She wiped her face with her t-shirt before laying her head back on her father’s chest. “God, honey. That was…uh, you…,” he stammered. “Dad, it’s OK. Thank you for making me feel better during the storm.” The tent was silent. “What storm? When?” he asked. “Tonight. Geez. I knew you slept through it,” Karen said. Richard laughed, which made Karen laugh and she moved up to his shoulder, kissing him on the side of the face. They hugged and Richard felt his daughter’s body press hard against his. Despite what had just happened, he felt a twinge of desire. He suppressed the craving to grab her ass, which he would have done to her mother in a similar moment. “Stay here if you want,” he told her. “Ok,” she said. Karen wondered what he was really thinking. She wondered if it would ever happen again. She wondered what he would feel like inside her. That’s when she decided to stop asking herself questions she couldn’t answer and get some sleep. They awoke in a couple hours with the rising sun shining brightly against the side of the tent. They were facing away from each other, but close enough to touch if they wanted to. Richard got up first, changing into his cycling clothes while Karen was turned the other way. Years of modesty were not changed by one night’s events apparently. Karen rolled over about the time her father was done tying his shoes. They smiled at each other and Richard studied the girl’s long legs, exposed clear to her panties. He remembered the feel of her legs on his in the middle of the night. “I’ll let you get dressed,” he said, heading for the front of the tent. Karen didn’t stop him. She didn’t know what to say that would sound genuine. She watched him slide out of the tent and pull the zipper back down behind him. The young woman rummaged in her duffle bag for a pair of cycling shorts and a tank top. When she was dressed she stood on her knees on the tent floor and straightened the straps to her top. She looked down at her partially concealed breasts. They pressed against the material proudly, still yearning for the touch she desired last night. Maybe tonight… She joined her father outside the tent and they prepared to pack everything before moving on to the next stop on their tour. Any fear that either of them might have concerning comments by the other was unfounded. Neither was ready or willing to discuss what happened. Richard was still debating how to show his appreciation to his daughter. Karen was unsure of her father’s interpretation of her actions. Both felt closer to the other. The day’s ride was hillier than the day before. Karen felt stronger on the bike, which her father told her was common on weeklong rides. By Friday, he assured her, he would have trouble keeping up with her. She doubted that. Richard found it easier to put his hand on Karen’s shoulder, or back, as they walked at food stops or at sightseeing attractions. Her body seemed more accessible too him now, although he couldn’t guarantee that she felt the same way. They simply were more at ease with each other when, in fact, the opposite could have easily been the case. By the end of the day’s ride it was obvious neither was going to demand an explanation from the other about the previous night. Implied approval was perfectly fine with both of them. Father and daughter both thought during the day about the upcoming night. It might be crucial as to how the situation would be handled for the rest of their lives. What they didn’t know was that they were hoping for the same thing and their actions would prove it. They camped at a county fairground. The good news was this meant a lot of wide-open spaces and tents were not on top of each other. Richard staked out a semi-shady spot on the fringe of the fairground and the tent was up within minutes. After their showers, they began the tedious task of killing the afternoon hours until it was time to eat dinner. Once again, the midday heat prevented use of the tent until almost nine o’clock in the evening. But the humidity level was down and the cyclists were inside the tent reading about the next day’s ride before sunset. With no TV or computer to keep Karen occupied, she found herself laying on top of her sleeping bag watching the lightning bugs land on the outside of the tent, their bellies flashing methodically. Voices could be heard in the distance. She may have slept for a short while because she opened her eyes again to a darker tent. Not the pitch-blackness of the night before, but a gloom where only shapes could be discerned. Her father was on top of his sleeping bag, on his back. He wore boxers. Karen quietly lifted her shirt over her head and felt the cool air rush over her bare breasts. She lay back down and stared up at the roof, her fingers sliding over her nipples. She took a deep breath and opened her shorts. With one motion, she lowered her shorts and panties simultaneously. Karen felt an incredible sense of relief flow through her. At that moment she wanted the tent to be drowned in light so that her father could see her in her nakedness…in her state of complete desire for him. She looked over at him. Karen was stunned to see him looking right back at her. Only three or four feet separated them and clearly the outline of her naked body was visible to him. Richard was the first to move. He slid off his sleeping bag and onto the tent’s floor, close enough to put his hand on Karen’s stomach. He lay on his side as his finger traced around her navel, then upward. Karen closed her eyes. She felt the finger inch higher and enter the gap between her breasts. Finally, it touched her right breast and moved toward the nipple. Richard traced around it, too, purposely avoiding it. Then his hand moved down the side of her breast and around the bottom. With an easy movement she wasn’t expecting, her father put his hand on top of her breast. He cupped it and pushed it higher on her chest, filling his palm with it. After one quick squeeze, he repeated the process with her other breast. Now he was right next to her, close enough for her to hear him breathing. She looked at him, just in time to see his face move to her right breast and his lips to touch her. He kissed her breast gently and licked it one time. With one hand on her left breast, Richard took her other nipple in his mouth. A surge of electricity ran through her as Karen felt her father’s tongue flick over and around her nipple. He eagerly sucked on it while massaging the other breast. Karen never wanted him to stop. This was incredible. She may have moaned out loud but her mind was beyond paying attention to that. Her hand was on her father’s head, pulling him closer to her. If he could have taken her entire breast in his mouth, he would have. And she would have let him. Their mutual lust could be heard in the sounds of his lips and tongue slurping at the young woman’s breast and her anxious, guttural replies. At some point Karen’s hand made contact with his cock. She did not hesitate to find the opening to his boxers and pull out the hardening shaft. Karen squeezed it tightly and felt it respond. A minute later she was on the verge of cumming and Richard’s erection was complete. Karen fumbled with the waistband of his boxers, trying to lower them herself. When their bodies would not allow her to continue, Richard backed away and sat on the tent floor. Soon the boxers were out of sight in a corner of the tent. He turned back toward his daughter and lowered himself onto her, half of his body covering half of hers. She felt the hard cock press against her leg as he sucked on her left breast. Not wanting to say anything in the midst of their passion, Karen gently put her hand on her father’s hip and pressed against him hard enough for him to understand her intentions. He complied by climbing on top of her. The young woman spread her legs slightly, allowing Richard to slide between them. He kissed his way up to Karen’s neck. Karen felt the tip of his cock slide past the entrance to her pussy in the process. She was wet. He was hard. She wanted him inside her. One of Karen’s hands grasped the cock near the tip and pulled it towards her. She moved it into position and waited. Richard felt the tip enter her. He heard Karen gasp quietly before pushing again, inserting half of his cock. In one continuous motion, he entered her completely, their bodies contacting each other at the hips. Slowly Richard lowered himself onto his daughter’s soft, warm body. He felt her breasts against his chest and he heard her breathing hard and fast. She was the first to move her body. It rose to meet his and then fell back onto her sleeping bag again. Soon afterwards, Richard began sliding his cock in and out of Karen’s pussy with the ease of people who had made love for years and years. They held each other tight for a few seconds before Richard’s hands slid beneath Karen and onto her ass. He pulled her up and thrust into her with more energy, squeezing her little ass cheeks until she moaned. Karen lifted her legs and wrapped them around her father’s waist. Now she felt totally filled by his cock. Each time he pushed into her the sound of their skin slapping together and their sighs filled the tent. Karen moved one hand between them and played with her clit. Occasionally she let her hand touch his cock as it moved in and out of her. This only made her father harder and closer to cumming. Perhaps they would have an opportunity another time to make love, but for now this was pure fucking. The desires that began the night before built to a point where both Karen and Richard needed a release. They found it in each other in that dark tent. Richard tried desperately to wait for his daughter to cum. Karen’s first thought was making her father cum. Richard couldn’t wait any more. He held his face close to her ear and told her he was about to cum. She urged him on and rubbed her clit harder. She felt his cock throb inside her and his entire body tremble. Richard drove into Karen one more time and held his cock deep inside her cunt.